For three years, I ate lunch in a bathroom stall. It started in sixth grade. I was small, quiet, and new — the perfect target. The name-calling came first. Then the shoving. Then the daily ritual of having my backpack dumped in the hallway while everyone watched. The watching was the worst part. Not the kids who did it — the dozens who stood there and said nothing. My parents knew something was wrong. I was losing weight. I stopped talking at dinner. My grades dropped. But wh